


The Shadows of Your Eyes

by Miri1984



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, canon typical undressed zolf, thirsty Oscar is thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: Zolf has to go undercover as a pirate and Oscar helps him with his outfit.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 16
Kudos: 97





	The Shadows of Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We are made one with what we touch and see](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172907) by [makesometime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime). 



> The delightful @makesometime wrote a fic where Zolf and Oscar were fake married and it led to this little prequel scene in my head.

“You’ll need to look the part,” Oscar says. 

“What, more than I already do?” Zolf is standing in front of a full length mirror in their shared room, stripped down to a vest and trousers, pulling out his beard to re-braid it into a series of small plaits with charms on the end. Oscar is supposed to be hunting through his makeup for the right kind of eyeliner to offset the green of Zolf’s eyes, but he has, instead, been transfixed by Zolf for the past few minutes, makeup strewn across the desk in front of him, forgotten as he watches the weave and play of Zolf’s fingers in his beard and other things besides.

When he’s not wearing his breastplate Zolf tends to wear as little as possible, something that is becoming increasingly distracting to Oscar, whose lifestyle has been distinctly lacking in stress relief lately. The vest is form fitting, as are his trousers, although they widen out at the bottom to allow room for his metal legs (they tend to catch on cloth sometimes, and while Zolf wears high boots to cover them he has torn several pairs trying to pull them on quickly). His bare arms are corded with muscle, the ink of his tattoos following their curves and dips in ways that make Oscar’s fingers itch with the desire to  _ trace… _

“You found something that’ll work yet?” Zolf says over his shoulder, and Oscar blinks, looking back down at the array of kohl and foundation he has spread out in front of him. 

He picks out a stick of inky black - a colour he avoids for himself as a rule - and hands it over to Zolf, who finishes tying off the last of the small braids in his beard and takes it. 

“Yeah this’ll do.”

“It’s true then, that pirates wear eyeliner for practical purposes?”

“Protects from sun glare,” Zolf says, as he expertly tilts his head and begins to apply the kohl to his eyes. “‘Swhy humans wear eyepatches as well - if you go from up on deck to below deck in a hurry you’ve got no dark vision and that can kill you in a fight. If you’ve got one eye permanently shaded you just switch the patch from that eye to the other one and you’re fine.”

“No depth perception, though,” Oscar says, unable to tear his eyes away from the gentle sweep of Zolf’s broad, competent hands.

“It’s a trade off. Not everyone bothers with the patch. I didn’t have to, lucky me. Some advantages to being a dwarf.”

“So why doesn’t the navy make you wear eyeliner and patches then?”

Zolf snorts, and switches eyes. From his angle Oscar can’t quite see what the finished eye looks like, and he is half content to wait for the reveal, half desperately impatient. “The navy is all about rules and regulations and appearances. Which is fair, cos if you don’t follow the rules or an order you die.” Oscar can just see a bitter smirk twist the side of Zolf’s mouth and his voice changes to something more clipped and precise than Oscar has ever heard from him. “Discipline isn’t just something you apply to your job, you must be disciplined in your habits, your appearance, your very  _ life  _ Ensign. Now look sharp!”

Oscar laughs, delighted. “I didn’t know you  _ did _ accents.”

“I don’t,” Zolf says, and he finishes up with his second eye. “That was  _ me.  _ I had to spout bullshit at the new recruits same as everyone.” 

Oscar is suddenly struck by a mental image of a younger Zolf in a crisp, navy uniform shouting orders at a line of nervous recruits and has to blink it away again to focus back into the present. His breath might have been coming a little faster, and looking at the completed picture in front of him is  _ not  _ helping.

Zolf’s eyes are lined expertly in the kohl, heavier on the under lid and shaped perfectly into the slightest suggestion of a teardrop on either side. The stark black of it offsets the white of his hair and the ruddiness of his cheeks, while at the same time bringing out the rich green of his eyes. His beard is dotted with intricate small braids and charms that catch the light of the lamp in their room and reflect back into Oscar’s eyes, making him blink a little. 

“You reckon this’ll do?” Zolf asks, and his voice is a little hesitant. Oscar realises he has caught his lower lip between his teeth. “Wilde?”

Oscar swallows. “You look extremely pirate-y, Zolf,” he says. “Very satisfactory.”

Zolf tilts his head, frowning. “You right, Wilde?”

Oscar smooths his hand down his front, adjusts his tie, looks everywhere but at the vision of a dwarf in front of him. “Perfectly fine, Zolf,” he says. “Now let’s go talk to a pirate.”


End file.
